News, reviews, and commentary on the world of superhero comics from your favorite college professor (or me)

DC Comics

April 1, 2016

I saw Batman v Superman last Thursday, and meant to get a post up more quickly, but it took me this long to digest all the Snyder-y goodness packed into those two-and-a-half hours of sheer cinematic bludgeoning.

Let me list some of things I loved about this movie (there may be spoilers):

I was very happy when Superman broke the fourth wall and addressed the audience, admitting that he was completely out of character killing Zod at the end of Man of Steel, and apologized for the resulting disillusionment of the next generation of Superman fans. But the following 20-minute discussion with Batman about why heroes don't kill was even better, and validated my faith in Snyder that he never really thought that Superman killing could ever be appropriate. (In general, the in-depth treatment of all the issues raised in the movie was much appreciated; I was so relieved Snyder didn't just gloss over these points to focus on grandiose, emotionally-laden set pieces with little meaningful content or narrative coherence.)

Jesse Eisenberg's subtle, delicately nuanced portrayal of Lex Luthor added the gravitas necessary to offset the goofy antics of the title heroes. Most of the film was a bright and giddy celebration of fun-filled adventure and superheroics, and it needed Luthor to lend it solemnity to give it the careful balance between unrestrained joy and emotional depth we've come to expect from Zack Snyder.

Speaking of lighthearted fun, I howled at Batman and Superman's impromptu vaudeville-style tap routine to the Beatles' "Martha My Dear." It allowed Affleck and Cavill the opportunity to show off their dance skills, which will come in handy in Justice League (which my sources tell me will be a broad reworking of A Chorus Line, Snyder's favorite Broadway-themed movie other than all the others).

Wonder Woman was integrated very well throughout the entire movie. I was so afraid she'd be shoehorned into the end of the movie to clean up after the boys nearly killed each other (silly, right?), or used for gratuitous eye-candy earlier, but I should have known Snyder was better that. (That would have been a real sucker punch indeed.)

The dream sequence where Batman turns into the Punisher and then Superman turns into the Punisher and then one Punisher goes all Punisher on the other Punisher but it's even better because it's Batman and Superman and everyone really wants them to be the Punisher because wow the Punisher's just so awesome and... yeah. The seven-year-old in me who really doesn't understand Batman or Superman loved that part.

My favorite moment: before the final throwdown, when Superman shouted "Speedos!" into Bruce Wayne's pool and Aquaman jumped out and said, "hey, I'm in a movie!"

I could go on, but I'll leave something for my review of the R-rated cut, in which I hope Batman and Superman can really cut loose and engage in some more uncharacteristically brutal violence and the rumored epic breakdance battle, which was too intense for PG-13. (Wait until you see Batman pop and lock... and load!)

January 27, 2016

NEW YORK BURBANK – Executives at DC Comics were taken by surprise by the reaction and speculation in response to their image promising a "Rebirth," which many online fans and sites took to mean a line-wide relaunch or reboot.

However, it wasn't the rebirth they had originally planned. "We were going to bring back Ted Kord as Blue Beetle," revealed Geoff Johns, Chief Creative Officer at DC Comics, who killed Kord in the lead-up to his event series Infinite Crisis. "We thoughts fan would be excited about that. We like to bring back a beloved character from before the New 52 from time to time so there will be someone in the DC Universe for fans to like now."

But now that Johns and DC Comics co-publishers Dan DiDio and Jim Lee have seen the online reaction to the "Rebirth" teaser, they are switching gears and making plans for a total reboot. "We never knew there was such passion for another reboot," said DiDio. "I knew fans appreciated our complete obliteration of 70+ years of continuity with the New 52, but I never imagined they'd be ready for us to do it all over again so soon!"

Expect The All-New All-Different 52 to hit stores this fall. But without Ted Kord. Or joy.

July 10, 2013

In Superman Unchained #2, Scott Snyder and Jim Lee show Superman facing insurmountable odds at the hands of an unknown but incredibly powerful foe. Rather than relying on brute force and heat vision to try to save the day, "this a Superman who is all about taking a deliberate, systematic approach to the business of being a superhero," as Forrest Helvie notes in his review at Newsarama. He continues:

There is a certain way that the Man of Steel thinks through every step he will take to save the day. But instead of being an uncomplicated tactician who’s able to think himself out of every situation, which would feel somewhat two-dimensional, Snyder subtly sneaks in a little more nuance to his vision of Superman. There are various plans he could employ to deal with the situation he faces in the beginning of the story with varied outcomes, some of which would necessarily include civilian casualties.

Rich Johnston at Bleeding Cool emphasized the trade-offs in terms of lives saved that we see Superman explicitly considering (thanks to inner dialogue—Superman’s, that is, not Rich’s). He does find a way to save the day—Superman again, not Rich—and as Rich puts it, “Situations avail themselves, and there is an answer to be found. But there might not have been, we see here a Superman willing to sacrifice some to save more.”

Forrest and Rich capture much of what I appreciated about what Snyder and Lee did in this comic:

1. They showed Superman facing what a situation in which he might not be to save everyone and determining which course of action would save the most lives. (I've written about the need for even Superman to use this kind of moral judgment in Superman and Philosophy and elsewhere on this blog.)

2. In the end, Superman saved everybody, even when—especially when—it seemed that he couldn’t. As I wrote in my commentary on the Man of Steel film, that’s what Superman does. Just when you think all is lost, there's no way he can win or save everybody, he does. Because he's Superman.

It’s easy to write Superman into a situation in which there’s no easy solution, a tragic dilemma from which he “cannot escape with clean hands.” It’s much harder—but more gratifying to fans of the classical Superman concept—to write a situation like that, from where there's no way out, and then show Superman figuring a way out anyway.

Call me old-school—I’ve certainly been called worse—but when I read a superhero story, I expect to see the hero faced with unbeatable odds, wonder to myself “how will my hero get out of this one?”, and then when he or she does, think to myself, “wow, I would have never thought of that!” When I was a kid, my first thought may been about the hero and how smart and strong he or she was. But now that I’m older—much, much older—I give more credit to the creators, in this case Snyder and Lee, not just for being clever enough to develop a fresh take on a well-trod comics plot device, but also for retaining the classic sense of heroism that fans like me want from our superheroes.

To me, it seemed like the writers of Man of Steel wanted to show that they could "beat" Superman by writing him into an impossible situation, exclaiming "a-ha, we got 'im!" and pounding another nail in the coffin of fans' "foolish" idealism. Instead, Snyder and Lee are giving us a Superman who acknowledges difficult decisions but rises above them, showing that true heroism rises above defeatism. Luckily for fans like me, Snyder and Lee's "S" does stand for hope after all.

June 16, 2013

Before I start, a caveat: I couldn't help but notice the controversy over Man of Steel on Twitter, much of it involving Mark Waid, one of the standard-bearers for a view of Superman I share. Passions are running hot over this one, which is both good and bad—it's good that people are talking this much about a Superman movie (or a DC Comics movie in general), but it's disheartening that they're arguing over the fundamental nature of a character that should be well established by now. Anyway, I've avoided reading any reviews or commentary, so other people may very well have said what I'm about to say, and if so, likely much better.

I'm going to offer some general comments about the movie, and then some discussion about some ethical topics raised by it. I'll keep the spoilers until the second part, and I'll warn you when they're coming.

First, Man of Steel as a movie (not as a Superman movie): I liked it. I loathe long films—90 to 100 minutes is perfect as far as I'm concerned—but even at 143 minutes it didn't feel long, and no parts of it dragged. Henry Cavill impressed me as Clark/Superman, having only seen him in The Tudors, and Amy Adams (whom I've seen in most everything she's done) played an effective Lois, but neither blew me away. The finest perfomances by far were Russell Crowe as Jor-El and Michael Shannon as Zod—both stole every scene they were in, and interactions between them were marvelous to watch. (The filmmakers cleverly found a way for Jor-El to appear throughout the movie despite... well, you know.)

The action scenes were spread throughout the movie nicely, broken up by emotional dialogue or flashback. This was important, because the action scenes themselves were intense—while there was little blood, there was more than enough destruction and explosions to earn the PG-13 rating. (I would not be comfortable taking my kids, 5 and 10, to this movie, and they've seen all the recent Marvel superhero movies.)

Visually, the movie was very stylish. While the Smallville and Metropolis scenes were by necessity reminiscent of past depictions, the designs of Krypton and Kryptonian technology were breathtaking, from their 3-D sculpting technology (for lack of a better term) to the armor the Kryptonians wore on Earth. But the movie was just so dim, like it was all shot through a fine gauze. There were no bright colors at all: Krypton was gray with accents of gray. Smallville was brown. Metropolis was—guess what—gray. And if you thought Superman would bring a ray of sunshine into any of this, you would be wrong. We've all seen the movie costume, all muted red and blue, with just a touch of muted yellow thanks to DC Comics' New 52 redesign. (And don't even get me started on the costume's texture, which reminds me of that rubber thingie you use to open the jar of pasta sauce that's been in your refrigerator since Superman Returns was out.)

But the dull tinge of the movie matched its narrative tone well—this is a dark movie through and through. Not quite Nolan-Batman dark, but more like Webb's Spider-Man but with none of the humor. The team behind The Amazing Spider-Man was able to give us a superhero film starring an upbeat character that fit with the current times but still retained some of the irreverance we expect from Webhead. But Man of Steel, featuring a character whose big red "S" stands for hope, was sorely lacking in hope, optimism, or joy. This is definitely a movie for a generation that is more likely to look in the sky and say "it's a bird, it's a drone—yep, it's a drone" with little hope of seeing a hero.

And nothing illustrates that point better than the ethics-loaded notes in the movie. This is where the SPOILERS start, so read on at your own risk if you have yet to see the movie.

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I have very mixed feelings about how Man of Steel showed Superman's heroism and ethical decision-making. Don't get me wrong, there are several inspiring scenes of heroism in the movie, such as the scene from the trailers in which young Clark pushes the schoolbus out of the river (at the risk of revealing his powers), and the scene near the end of the movie in which he destroys the world engine while it robs him of his powers. Other characters get in on the action too: Lois, Perry White, and Jonathan Kent all get chances to be heroic. These were fantastic moments in an otherwise dour film.

Unfortunately, these moments we expect from a superhero movie are overshadowed by other scenes that we don't. Clark/Superman makes some questionable moral choices in the movie, choices that may be understandable if any other person made them, but not Superman (or even any other cinematic superhero outside of Wolverine).

I've written a bit the last couple years about Superman's need to use moral judgment, rather than his incredible powers, to resolve tragic dilemmas, conflicts in principles or duties from which he cannot excape "with clean hands." In the comics, this usually takes the form of Luthor leaving Lois dangling off the ledge at the top of a skyscraper in Metropolis while a tidal wave threatens to wipe out a town in Indonesia. What will Superman do? If he can't save both, he has to make a choice, and by necessity that choice will involve a foregone option.

But guess what? In the comics, he manages to do both, to save Lois and the Indonesians. Because he's Superman. He does the impossible. He doesn't let the situation (or Lex Luthor) define his options—Superman defines his own options. He finds a way.

This is most relevant to the end of the movie when Superman kills Zod. After Lois helped the government scientists send the other Kryptonians and their battleship back to the Phantom Zone, Superman faced Zod alone. Zod indiscriminately used his heat vision to reap destruction and murder on Metropolis, and even after Supes had him in a chokehold, the deadly rays from Zod's eyes crept closer and closer to a small group of innocent bystanders. At the last moment, Superman snapped Zod's neck; Zod fell to the ground and Superman fell to his knees in tears.

Superman's remorse was obvious—and so was mine. (Not everyone felt this way; many in the theater cheered, which I've heard was not an uncommon reaction across the country.) This resolution to the story doen't work for me in a number of ways.

First, if Superman had the strength and control to twist Zod's head to snap his neck, why couldn't he turn Zod's head just to divert it from the bystanders? I can let this one go: Zod is a more experienced fighter than Superman is, and perhaps Superman had to put the last of his might into twisting Zod's head without being able to moderate his exertion sufficiently to avoid killing him. Also, this is a young Superman, fighting a physical equal for the first time in his short career. I can excuse him for not having the experience and wisdom to consider other options—people were going to die and he had to make a choice. I get that.

But I don't blame Superman for what he did in the story—I blame those who wrote the story and chose to portray Superman killing his opponent, presumably to make an "edgy" Superman for the 21st century. Even if I accept that Superman had no other choice in that situation, the people who made the movie had a choice whether to put him in that situation. They didn't have to show Superman killing someone—they chose to. They didn't even wait until the third movie, after his heroic ideals had been established and then his "necessary" compromise takes on more weight. No, they chose to show Superman killing someone in his first movie, thereby setting up his moral code for the rest of this appearances in this cycle of films. (Watch out, Luthor.)

And I find that choice despicable. I know full well that tough decisions sometimes have to be made, and Superman is not immune to them. And I love stories that show that moral struggle. But I also love to see Superman find a way to rise above the moral struggle, to show us that if you try hard enough, think the situation through, and refuse to compromise, you can find a way out.

This won't always work for normal human beings, but Superman isn't a normal human being. Superman is an ideal. The ideal. He shows us the best of what we can be. As Mark Waid said on Twitter, Superman shouldn't be written to more like us—he should be written so we want to be more like him. But this is not how the Man of Steel was written, and that's why it fails as a Superman movie.

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I saw Man of Steel Friday afternoon, and Saturday morning I went to Barnes & Noble with my son, who loves superheroes. We always look at both the regular graphic novel section and the rack in the kids' section with superhero books. (And we might happen to pass the philosophy shelves in between, just to make sure all my books are facing outwards. I'm a helper.) There's a new book in the kids' section titled Man of Steel: Superman Saves Smallville that tells a simpler version of the story in the movie, including the climactic ending. But it tells the ending a little differently:

So there were other ways to end the story without Superman killing his enemy—whew, and here I thought it was just me. (Ironically, the one reviewer so far at Amazon says even this book is too violent for small children!) Sure, in the storybook the villain got away. But that's one of the ways superhero movies usually end: either the villain is captured, gets away, or dies by his own hand (as the hero tries to save him, of course). More to the point, that's how Superman movies should end.

Of course, we can easily imagine situations in which Superman would have no choice but to kill his enemy, and skilled creators could craft an engaging story around it. (See my chapter from Superman and Philosophy for one example.) But an argument can be made that not only would it be a bad Superman story, but that it would not be a Superman story at all. Superman isn't the guy who usually does the right thing—Superman is the guy who does the right thing by definition. Any less and it just isn't Superman.

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Epilogue: I couldn't find anywhere to mention this, but I was also disturbed by the scene in which Clark lets his father walk into the path of the tornado to save the family dog and help people get to safety. I get that it was supposed to show Clark the folly of hiding his abilities at the cost of innocent lives. But it threatens to introduce an "Uncle Ben" aspect to the Superman mythos in which Clark would forever be plagued by the knowledge that his father died because he stood back. Furthermore, it made no sense in story: Clark could have done exactly what Jonathan did (rescue the dog and help people to safety) without revealing his powers, and in the process protecting his father. As shown, it was a confounding story element that introduces an unnecessary and possibly disturbing element to the Superman backstory—another disappointing choice on the part of the filmmakers.

May 10, 2013

As Zap2It reported early this morning, part of Grant Morrison's sprawling DC Comics series Multiversity will tell the story of a stranger from another planet landing in Nazi Germany rather than Smallville, Kansas:

"Imagine you're Superman and for the first 25 [years] of your life you were working for Hitler," Morrison says, "And then you realize, 'Oh my god, it's Hitler!'" Morrison further explains, "Not only is he a Nazi Superman, he's a Nazi Superman that knows his entire society, though it looks utopian, was built on the bones of the dead. Ultimately it's wrong and it must be destroyed." The issue will see the caped hero going up against enemies he knows are right, as he comes to terms with the fact that the principles he was raised with are wrong.

It’s 1926, and on a small farm with a few fields of wheat, a meteorite has just charred its way through a good bit of the crop. The farmer who owns the land is dismayed. His life has been hard since the Great War, even though prices for his food have skyrocketed, at least in terms of the actual bills carried around. In fact, one of his neighbors joked that he needed a wheelbarrow to carry around the cash to buy a loaf of bread, given how worthless the money had become. He and his wife are barely scraping by. Perhaps it is just as well that they had not been able to have children. Where would they find the money? His wife is fond of saying, “God will provide,” but sometimes he has doubts. And now a large part of his best field has been destroyed by a rock from space!

As the farmer heads toward the damaged area, he calls back to his wife to bring a shovel in case there are any scattered fires to smother. He can see the hot smoke from the house, though the meteor itself is buried. His wife is almost half way to him when he reaches the crater, his eyes widening. “Magda!” he shouts, with a mixture of awe and anxiety, “Magda, bring a blanket! There is … a child!” The words seemed distant from him, as though said by someone else. His wife, believing she has misheard, runs toward him, shovel in hand.

“Jonas? What is it? What is wrong?” she asks, her hands trembling. As she nears her husband she can see him, just emerging from some sort of space pod—a small boy! A gift from God! Her prayers are finally answered. Here in the German heartland, a miracle occurs, one that will soon have profound consequences for the world at large. The small child that had landed on Jonas and Magda Kuhn’s farm was the Übermensch himself, a “super man.” The Übermensch would vindicate Hitler’s claim that the New World Order would arise in Germany and prove that nation’s superiority.

Only three years later, young Karl Kuhn, as he was named in the adoption papers, would join the Hitler Youth. Indoctrinated into the cause, his character was formed by the Nazi Party. He never knew any other life, and when the war finally came, Hitler used his young prodigy as the ultimate super-weapon. The war was over before it had begun, as the Allies had no counter to such raw power. A farm boy from the middle of nowhere had helped the Nazis take over the world.

"...Or Not" is the title of the following section, and through the rest of the chapter Sharp explains the different ways this story could go and how moral character and develop influence it. (See also the four other chapters in the book on Superman and Nietzsche for more on the Übermensch—and why the true Übermensch may be named Lex.)

As countless others do, I look forward to seeing Grant Morrison's version of this "what if" story in Multiversity—and in the meantime, be sure to pick up Superman and Philosophy!

Berlatsky's main substantive points seem to be that 1) Superman is a "violent vigilante" and 2) violent vigilantism invariably and inevitably becomes directed towards the powerless in society. The first point is merely asserted but not elaborated on, as if readers would take this for granted. I think both aspects of this characterization of Superman are mistaken: he often uses force, certainly, but never disproportionately, and always to assist law enforcement when he can rather than subvert it. Batman has been known to cross both of these lines and has been criticized for it--see Colin Smith's review of the recent Batman #17, for example--but Superman has always been a clear counterpoint to this.

As for the second point, it is indeed a common storytelling device in comics for heroes to go mad with power, succumbing to the Ring of Gyges and abusing their fantastic abilities. This is an everpresent issue for Superman, the most powerful of heroes while at the same time a visitor to our fair planet. But this is a feature rather than a flaw: it allows the ongoing creators of Superman to depict the human (and Kryptonian) struggle to retain one's ethics against the pull of self-interest, especially as the power to pursue the latter grows. This highlights the importance of Clark Kent's upbringing in Smallville, where the Kents instilled a solid moral code in Clark to counteract the temptation of using his powers later. Of course he may let his resolve slip and use his powers for himself or causes he comes to believe in. But because he's a hero--because he's Superman--he won't.

So yes, a writer such as Orson Scott Card could use Superman's power to further his own agenda. But let's keep the focus of our collective disgust on Mr. Card, not on a superhero that, for 75 years, has shown us consistently how one should use amazing power for the good of others despite every temptation to do the opposite.

August 29, 2012

All in all, Green Lantern Annual #1, written by Geoff Johns and pencilled by Ethan Van Sciver and Pete Woods, is one of the most exciting books to come out of the DC New 52 so far. Faint praise, perhaps, but this felt like the build-up to Johns' previous GL events like "Sinestro Corps War" and "Blackest Night," and that feeling has been sorely missed over the last year.

I don't think there will be any major plot spoilers in this post aside from what already appeared in the online preview (the first six pages on the comic). I will show a couple images from later in the comic, but nothing really revealing--but be warned in any case. SPOILERS!!!

As you may have seen from the preview, the Smurfs Gone Wild have decided that the threat to the universe lies not in emotion in general, nor in individual emotions, but in the very willpower that powers the Green Lantern rings--or, as they put it, free will.

We need to be clear on they mean by "free will." He does not mean it as the term is used in metaphysical debates over free will vs. determinism. That sense of free will describes any being's ability to be the "uncaused cause" and "first mover," to be able insert his, her, or its decision-making power or agency onto a world of physical cause-and-effect. It is not up to the Guardians or anyone else to eliminate free will if it exists--it either does or does not. And if there is no free will, no one has it--including our Guardians.

No, what they mean by "free will" is true choice, agency, or autonomy, the ability to make choices independently of external (and possibly internal) authority or undue influence. Free will in this sense can exist regardless of whether metaphysical free will exists, since this variety of free will operates on a psychological level, not the level of elementary particle physics. Even if we are not truly "in control" of our thoughts and actions in a deterministic universe, we will still "make" choices independently of others' choices--in the end, they simply are not our choices at all. (For more on the various meaning of free will, see this article at the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.)

Basically, the Guardians don't like that their Lanterns think for themselves, for then you end up with rebels like Hal Jordan and Guy Gardner. (In fact, the middle Guardian above sounds a lot like the mayor of New York, Michael Bloomberg--he probably thinks the Lanterns drink too much soda too.) They want mindless creatures that will do their bidding--hence, the Third Army. And they're purty, too:

(I would have thought the word "assimilate" had been trademarked by the Star Trek people by now, but I guess not.) These soliders (for lack of a better term) have no mind, no identity, no free will. They will not make their own choices, they will not question the orders of the Guardians--they will be tools, pure and simple.

This story seems like a natural progression for Johns' broader Green Lantern arc, and I'm interested to see how it plays out. I do hope the Guardians eventually return to being good guys, if imperfect ones. Jordan and Guy Gardner disagreed with them often, of course, but at bottom they all sought the good, only disagreeing on how to pursue it. I hope Johns redeems them, or some of them, at the end of this storyline--but if the rest of New 52 universe is any guide, I'm not holding my breath.

I can't end this post without a couple panels from this comic that I found hilarious. First, we have the long-lost Guardians of Middle-Earth:

I guess they're the Lords of the... nah, too easy.

In the scene below, Hal and Sinestro have to combine the last flickers of energy in their rings to summon Sinestro's power battery. I guess Hal was a fan of the old Superfriends show, but Sinestro is none too happy with it.

May 23, 2012

I'm no fan of Grant Morrison, especially on Batman. But I will always thank him for bringing the "product" of Son of the Demon into mainstream continuity in the form of Damian Wayne, which has led to a Batman/Robin relationship unlike any that preceded it. Rather than purity of Dick Grayson and Tim Drake, or the loose cannon that was Jason Todd, Batman now has a partner with training and devotion that equals his own, but few of the principles that keep Batman from crossing the ultimate line into naked vengeance. (See this earlier post for father and son's discussion of killing from Peter Tomasi's Batman and Robin.)

Batman Incorporated #1, written by Morrison and illustrated by the incomparable Chris Burnham, continues the Leviathan storyline from the pre-relaunch title, but seems just as much like Morrison's own work on Batman and Robin (when Grayson wore the cowl). And it was fun! If I found Morrison's work in the Batverse very up-and-down before the relaunch, it seems like a breath of fresh air now. His "technicolor" vision of Batman is more than welcome, not so much within the current Bat-titles, but more against the backdrop of the New 52 as a whole, which is distinctly lacking in fun.

Don't get me wrong, I love what Snyder and Capullo have been doing on Batman, beating down Batman until he just can't take any more--and then he still comes back, because he's Batman. (Can't get enouh of that kind of story, sincerely.) And Tomasi's Batman and Robin has been a quality title, but Daniels' Detective Comics has been pedestrian at best, and the less said about Batman: The Dark Knight, the better. None of the other Bat-titles excite me either; as much as I wanted to enjoy Batwing, Batgirl, and Batwoman, they all leave me cold.

But Batman Incorporated #1, now this is fun. More details after the jump--and there may be spoilers.

May 2, 2012

OK, the title is a little melodramatic, but I think this book deserves it. Earth 2 #1, written by James Robinson and drawn by the incomparable Nicola Scott, has me wishing (with qualifications) that this new Earth 2 were the mainstream DC Earth. (Its companion book, Worlds' Finest, by Paul Levitz, George Pérez, and Kevin Maguire, was also excellent, but pales in comparison to the cinematic bombast of Earth 2.)

I can't discuss this book without massive spoilers, so proceed with caution! More below the jump...

April 22, 2012

Last week's Green Lantern Corps #8, written Pete Tomasi and illustrated by Fernando Pasarin and Scott Hanna, featured an interesting discussion among the Alpha Lanterns regarding what to do about John Stewart in light of his killings of a fellow Green Lantern who seemed close to revealing Corps secrets under torture by the Keepers.

This exchange raises terrific questions about the nature of criminal justice as well as the role of the Alpha Lanterns in particular. From Boodikka's comment that "our duty is to be impartial and render justice," it sounds like the Alphas are more than just police. As usually understood, police do not "render justice" but merely play a role in it by investigating and apprehending suspects--an important role, of course, but not quite "rendering justice." So let's assume Boodikka was getting ahead of herself, and continue to understand the Alphas as the internal affairs division of the Corps.

The more interesting issue here is about the proper role of incidental consequences to the execution of justice, even at the level of arrest and arraignment. There seems to be no question among the Alphas regarding what Stewart did; the only question is whether to arrest him for it (and presumably transmit him to the Guardians for "trial," as they did with Laira before the relaunch). Boodikka and Relok Hag take the position that they must arrest Stewart no matter what the consequences, especially those due to "emotion," in order to serve justice. Green Man and Varix, on the other hand, urge consideration of the broader consequences, particularly those that impact their ability to enforce justice in the future.

The first position has clear appeal: the Alphas have good reason to believe John Stewart committed a crime against the Corps, and he should be brought in for future questioning. Arresting him should imply nothing about his guilt (though the Alphas have grounds for reasonable suspicion), and the Guardians will pronounce judgment at trial. But the second position is more inclusive: it doesn't deny the importance of arresting suspected wrongdoers, but it admits other factors relevant to the decision whether and how to do it. Stewart is a leader in the Corps, widely admired and respected by his fellow Lanterns as a pillor of honor. Bursting into a crowded room to arrest Stewart (as they do at the end of the issue) is an extremely bold show of force, especially toward someone like Stewart who would likely submit himself willingly for trial. John's popularity, the moral ambiguity of his actions, and the Alphas' brashness in response make it likely that the Green Man's prediction of divisiveness will come true, and as Varix said, "the ability to enforce justice will be severely put to" the test.

Green Man and Varix are not suggesting that they don't arrest John at all, but merely that they do so in a way that preserves the Alpha's authority and whatever respect the rest of the Corps has for them. By following Boodikka and Relok Hag's hardline position (especially in the way in which they did it), the Alphas will compromise their own standing and make the pursuit of justice more difficult in the future. In other words, justice viciously served is self-defeating. Once the arrest decision is made, the Alphas should consider how best to take John into custody to make sure that they are seen as fair and--yes, Boodikka--impartial in their "rendering" of justice. This is not a compromise in the pursuit of justice, but a way to make the pursuit of justice better. Arresting John the right way will serve justice in this particular case and ensure that they will enjoy the respect and authority necessary to continue to serve justice in the future.

But what if Green Man and Varix had been suggesting that they not arrest John at all (at least not until the Guardians ordered them to)? Do the Alphas have that kind of discretion? In a sense they must--as far as we know, there have only ever been five of them at any given time! Unless the 7200 rank-and-file Lanterns are extremely well-behaved (or the potential violations that would attract the Alphas' attention are very few), the Alphas can't possibly investigate and apprehend every wrongdoer among the Corps.

In the real world on Earth, police have tremendous discretion over which crimes to address, especially regarding misdemeanors like traffic violations and littering. Even in areas with a lot of officers per capita or square mile, they can't possibly go after every wrongdoer they see, and so they must use their judgment regarding which ones are most important to spend their time and resources investigating. Of course, people who double-park are one thing, but we wouldn't like to think of police letting murderers get away. Prosecutors, however, can certainly decide to drop a case against a suspected murderer if they think their limited resources can be better used somewhere else, either because of a weak case or even community pressure (though this is obviously a dangerous and inadvisable road to take). This is a tremendous amount of power, of course, and we trust our prosecutors to use it wisely and sparingly, but given the scarcity of their resources, they cannot possible prosecute every crime that comes across their desks, and must own judgment in choosing amongst them.

The idea that the Alpha Lanterns "embody the independent thought process of a Green Lantern along with the efficient logic of the Manhunters" is extremely intriguing one to a philosopher, especially one who has interests in rationality and judgment. This issue was the first of the "Alpha War" arc, so let's hope there is more to talk about in future installments.

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For more on justice and scarcity, see Michael Cahill paper's "Real World Retributivism" (Washington University Law Review 85, 2007, pp. 815-870), and my paper "Retributivism in a World of Scarcity" (from Theoretical Foundations of Law and Economics, edited by Mark D. White, Cambridge University Press, 2009, pp. 253-271). The Alpha Lanterns and the trial of Laira are discussed in two chapters in Green Lantern and Philosophy (edited by Jane Dryden and Mark D. White, Wiley, 2011): Andrew Terjesen's "Will They Let Just Anybody Join?: Testing for Moral Judgment in the Green Lantern Corps" (pp. 53-68) and my "Crying for Justice: Retributivism for Those Who Worship Evil's Might" (pp. 162-174).